The house was very still. In the little room over the porch, the Lady  translation - The house was very still. In the little room over the porch, the Lady  Thai how to say

The house was very still. In the li


The house was very still. In the little room over the porch, the Lady in Black sat alone. Near her, a child's white dress lay across a chair. On the floor at her feet lay a tiny pair of shoes. A doll hung over a chair and a toy soldier occupied the little stand by the bed.

And everywhere was silence—the strange silence that comes only to a room where the clock has stopped ticking.

The clock stood on the shelf near the end of the bed. The Lady in Black looked at it. She remembered the wave of anger that had come over her when she had reached out her hand and silenced the clock that night three months before.

It had been silent ever since and it should remain silent, too. Of what possible use were the hours it would tick away now? As if anything mattered, with little Kathleen lying out there white and still under the black earth!

"Muvver!"

The Lady in Black moved restlessly and looked toward the closed door. Behind it, she knew, was a little boy with wide blue eyes who wanted her. But she wished he would not call her by that name. It only reminded her of those other little lips--silent now.

"Muvver!" The voice was more demanding.

The Lady in Black did not answer. He might go away, she thought, if she did not answer.

There was a short silence, and then the door opened slowly.

"Pe-eek!" It was a cry of joyful discovery, but it was followed almost immediately by silence. The unsmiling woman did not invite him to come near. The boy was unsteady at his first step. He paused, then spoke carefully, "I's--here."

It was maybe the worst thing he could have said. To the Lady in Black it was a yet more painful reminder of that other one who was not there. She gave a sharp cry and covered her face with her hands.

"Bobby, Bobby" she cried out, in a release of unreasoning sadness. "Go away! Go away! I want to be alone--alone!"

All the brightness fled from the boy's face. His eyes showed a feeling of deep hurt. He waited, but she did not move. Then, with a half-quieted cry, he left the room.

Long minutes afterward, the Lady in Black raised her head and saw him through the window. He was in the yard with his father, playing under the apple tree.

Playing!

The Lady in Black looked at them with serious eyes, and her mouth hardened at the corners.

Bobby had someone to play with him, someone to love him and care for him, while out there on the hillside Kathleen was alone--all alone.

With a little cry the Lady in Black sprang to her feet and hurried into her own room. Her hands shook as she pinned on her hat and covered herself with her black veil. But her step was firm as she walked downstairs and out through the hall.

The man under the apple tree rose hurriedly and came forward.

"Helen, dearest,--not again, today!" he begged. "Darling, it can't do any good!"

"But she's alone--all alone. You don't seem to think! No one thinks--no one knows how I feel. You don't understand. If you did, you'd come with me. You wouldn't ask me to stay--here!" choked the woman.

"I have been with you, dear," said the man gently. "I've been with you today, and every day, almost, since--since she left us. But it can't do any good--this continuous mourning over her grave. It only makes more sadness for you, for me, and for Bobby. Bobby is--here, you know, dear!"

"No, no, don't say it," cried the woman wildly. "You don't understand! You don't understand!" And she turned and hurried away, followed by the worried eyes of the man, and the sad eyes of the boy.

It was not a long walk to the burial place. The Lady in Black knew the way. Yet, she stumbled and reached out blindly. She fell before a little stone marked "Kathleen." Near her a gray-haired woman, with her hands full of pink and white roses, watched her sympathetically. The gray-haired woman paused and opened her lips as if she would speak. Then she turned slowly and began to arrange her flowers on a grave nearby.

The Lady in Black raised her head. For a time she watched in silence. Then she threw back her veil and spoke.

"You care, too," she said softly. "You understand. I've seen you here before, I'm sure. And was yours--a little girl?"

The gray-haired woman shook her head.

No, dearie, it's a little boy--or he was a little boy forty years ago."

"Forty years--so long! How could you have lived forty years--without him?"

Again the little woman shook her head.

"One has to--sometimes, dearie, but this little boy wasn't mine.

"But you care. You understand. I've seen you here so often before."

"Yes. You see, there's no one else to care. But there was once, and I'm caring now, for her sake."

"For her?"

"His mother."

"Oh-h!" It was a tender little cry, full of quick sympathy. The eyes of the Lady in Black were on the stone marked "Kathleen."

"It ain't as if I didn't know how she'd feel," said the gray-haired woman. "You see, I was nurse to the boy when it happened, and for years afterward I worked in the family. So I know. I saw the whole thing from the beginning, from the very day when the little boy here met with the accident."

"Accident!" It was a cry of concern and sympathy from Kathleen's mother.

"Yes. It was a runaway and he didn't live two days."

"I know! I know!" choked the Lady in Black. Yet she was not thinking of the boy and the runaway horse accident.

"Things stopped then for my mistress," continued the little gray-haired woman, "and that was the beginning of the end. She had a husband and a daughter, but they didn't seem to be important--not either of 'em. Nothin' seemed important except this little grave out here. She came and spent hours over it, bringin' flowers and talkin' to it."

The Lady in Black raised her head suddenly and quickly looked into the woman's face. The woman went on speaking.

"The house got sadder and sadder, but she didn't seem to mind. She seemed to want it so. She shut out the sunshine and put away many of the pictures. She sat only in the boy's room. And there, everything was just as it was when he left it. She wouldn't let a thing be touched. I wondered afterward that she didn't see where it was all leadin' to, but she didn't."

"'Leading to'?" The voice shook.

"Yes. I wondered she didn't see she was losin' 'em--that husband and daughter; but she didn't see it."

The Lady in Black sat very still. Even the birds seemed to have stopped their singing. Then the gray-haired woman spoke:

"So, you see, that's why I come and put flowers here. It's for her. There's no one else now to care," she sighed, rising to her feet.

"But you haven't told yet--what happened," said the Lady in Black, softly.

"I don't know myself really. I know the man went away. He got somethin' to do travelin' so he wasn't home much. When he did come he looked sick and bad. He come less and less, and he died. But that was after she died. He's buried over there beside her and the boy. The girl--well, nobody knows where the girl is. Girls like flowers and sunshine and laughter and young people, you know, and she didn't get any of them at home. So she went--where she did get 'em, I suppose.

"There, and if I haven't gone and tired you all out with my talkin'!" said the little gray-haired woman regretfully.

"No, no. I was glad to hear it," said the Lady in Black, rising unsteadily to her feet. Her face had grown white, and her eyes showed a sudden fear. "But I must go now. Thank you." And she turned and hurried away.

The house was very still when the Lady in Black reached home. She shivered at its silence. She hurried up the stairs, almost with guilt. In her own room she pulled at the dark veil that covered her face. She was crying now, a choking little cry with broken words running through it. She was still crying as she removed her black dress.

Long minutes later, the Lady--in black no longer--moved slowly down the stairway. Her eyes showed traces of tears, but her lips were bravely curved in a smile. She wore a white dress and a single white rose in her hair. Behind her, in the little room over the porch, a tiny clock ticked loudly on its shelf near the end of the bed.

There came a sound of running feet in the hall below, then:

"Muvver!--it's Muvver come back!" shouted a happy voice.

And with a little sobbing cry Bobby's mother opened her arms to her son.


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The house was very still. In the little room over the porch, the Lady in Black sat alone. Near her, a child's white dress lay across a chair. On the floor at her feet lay a tiny pair of shoes. A doll hung over a chair and a toy soldier occupied the little stand by the bed.And everywhere was silence—the strange silence that comes only to a room where the clock has stopped ticking.The clock stood on the shelf near the end of the bed. The Lady in Black looked at it. She remembered the wave of anger that had come over her when she had reached out her hand and silenced the clock that night three months before.It had been silent ever since and it should remain silent, too. Of what possible use were the hours it would tick away now? As if anything mattered, with little Kathleen lying out there white and still under the black earth!"Muvver!"The Lady in Black moved restlessly and looked toward the closed door. Behind it, she knew, was a little boy with wide blue eyes who wanted her. But she wished he would not call her by that name. It only reminded her of those other little lips--silent now."Muvver!" The voice was more demanding.The Lady in Black did not answer. He might go away, she thought, if she did not answer.There was a short silence, and then the door opened slowly."Pe-eek!" It was a cry of joyful discovery, but it was followed almost immediately by silence. The unsmiling woman did not invite him to come near. The boy was unsteady at his first step. He paused, then spoke carefully, "I's--here."It was maybe the worst thing he could have said. To the Lady in Black it was a yet more painful reminder of that other one who was not there. She gave a sharp cry and covered her face with her hands."Bobby, Bobby" she cried out, in a release of unreasoning sadness. "Go away! Go away! I want to be alone--alone!"All the brightness fled from the boy's face. His eyes showed a feeling of deep hurt. He waited, but she did not move. Then, with a half-quieted cry, he left the room.Long minutes afterward, the Lady in Black raised her head and saw him through the window. He was in the yard with his father, playing under the apple tree.Playing!The Lady in Black looked at them with serious eyes, and her mouth hardened at the corners.Bobby had someone to play with him, someone to love him and care for him, while out there on the hillside Kathleen was alone--all alone.With a little cry the Lady in Black sprang to her feet and hurried into her own room. Her hands shook as she pinned on her hat and covered herself with her black veil. But her step was firm as she walked downstairs and out through the hall.The man under the apple tree rose hurriedly and came forward."Helen, dearest,--not again, today!" he begged. "Darling, it can't do any good!""But she's alone--all alone. You don't seem to think! No one thinks--no one knows how I feel. You don't understand. If you did, you'd come with me. You wouldn't ask me to stay--here!" choked the woman."I have been with you, dear," said the man gently. "I've been with you today, and every day, almost, since--since she left us. But it can't do any good--this continuous mourning over her grave. It only makes more sadness for you, for me, and for Bobby. Bobby is--here, you know, dear!""No, no, don't say it," cried the woman wildly. "You don't understand! You don't understand!" And she turned and hurried away, followed by the worried eyes of the man, and the sad eyes of the boy.It was not a long walk to the burial place. The Lady in Black knew the way. Yet, she stumbled and reached out blindly. She fell before a little stone marked "Kathleen." Near her a gray-haired woman, with her hands full of pink and white roses, watched her sympathetically. The gray-haired woman paused and opened her lips as if she would speak. Then she turned slowly and began to arrange her flowers on a grave nearby.The Lady in Black raised her head. For a time she watched in silence. Then she threw back her veil and spoke."You care, too," she said softly. "You understand. I've seen you here before, I'm sure. And was yours--a little girl?"The gray-haired woman shook her head.No, dearie, it's a little boy--or he was a little boy forty years ago.""Forty years--so long! How could you have lived forty years--without him?"Again the little woman shook her head."One has to--sometimes, dearie, but this little boy wasn't mine."But you care. You understand. I've seen you here so often before.""Yes. You see, there's no one else to care. But there was once, and I'm caring now, for her sake.""For her?""His mother.""Oh-h!" It was a tender little cry, full of quick sympathy. The eyes of the Lady in Black were on the stone marked "Kathleen.""It ain't as if I didn't know how she'd feel," said the gray-haired woman. "You see, I was nurse to the boy when it happened, and for years afterward I worked in the family. So I know. I saw the whole thing from the beginning, from the very day when the little boy here met with the accident.""Accident!" It was a cry of concern and sympathy from Kathleen's mother."Yes. It was a runaway and he didn't live two days.""I know! I know!" choked the Lady in Black. Yet she was not thinking of the boy and the runaway horse accident."Things stopped then for my mistress," continued the little gray-haired woman, "and that was the beginning of the end. She had a husband and a daughter, but they didn't seem to be important--not either of 'em. Nothin' seemed important except this little grave out here. She came and spent hours over it, bringin' flowers and talkin' to it."The Lady in Black raised her head suddenly and quickly looked into the woman's face. The woman went on speaking."The house got sadder and sadder, but she didn't seem to mind. She seemed to want it so. She shut out the sunshine and put away many of the pictures. She sat only in the boy's room. And there, everything was just as it was when he left it. She wouldn't let a thing be touched. I wondered afterward that she didn't see where it was all leadin' to, but she didn't."
"'Leading to'?" The voice shook.

"Yes. I wondered she didn't see she was losin' 'em--that husband and daughter; but she didn't see it."

The Lady in Black sat very still. Even the birds seemed to have stopped their singing. Then the gray-haired woman spoke:

"So, you see, that's why I come and put flowers here. It's for her. There's no one else now to care," she sighed, rising to her feet.

"But you haven't told yet--what happened," said the Lady in Black, softly.

"I don't know myself really. I know the man went away. He got somethin' to do travelin' so he wasn't home much. When he did come he looked sick and bad. He come less and less, and he died. But that was after she died. He's buried over there beside her and the boy. The girl--well, nobody knows where the girl is. Girls like flowers and sunshine and laughter and young people, you know, and she didn't get any of them at home. So she went--where she did get 'em, I suppose.

"There, and if I haven't gone and tired you all out with my talkin'!" said the little gray-haired woman regretfully.

"No, no. I was glad to hear it," said the Lady in Black, rising unsteadily to her feet. Her face had grown white, and her eyes showed a sudden fear. "But I must go now. Thank you." And she turned and hurried away.

The house was very still when the Lady in Black reached home. She shivered at its silence. She hurried up the stairs, almost with guilt. In her own room she pulled at the dark veil that covered her face. She was crying now, a choking little cry with broken words running through it. She was still crying as she removed her black dress.

Long minutes later, the Lady--in black no longer--moved slowly down the stairway. Her eyes showed traces of tears, but her lips were bravely curved in a smile. She wore a white dress and a single white rose in her hair. Behind her, in the little room over the porch, a tiny clock ticked loudly on its shelf near the end of the bed.

There came a sound of running feet in the hall below, then:

"Muvver!--it's Muvver come back!" shouted a happy voice.

And with a little sobbing cry Bobby's mother opened her arms to her son.


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The house was very still. In the little room over the porch, the Lady in Black sat alone. Near her, a child's white dress lay across a chair. On the floor at her feet lay a tiny pair of shoes. A doll hung over a chair and a toy soldier occupied the little stand by the bed.

And everywhere was silence—the strange silence that comes only to a room where the clock has stopped ticking.

The clock stood on the shelf near the end of the bed. The Lady in Black looked at it. She remembered the wave of anger that had come over her when she had reached out her hand and silenced the clock that night three months before.

It had been silent ever since and it should remain silent, too. Of what possible use were the hours it would tick away now? As if anything mattered, with little Kathleen lying out there white and still under the black earth!

"Muvver!"

The Lady in Black moved restlessly and looked toward the closed door. Behind it, she knew, was a little boy with wide blue eyes who wanted her. But she wished he would not call her by that name. It only reminded her of those other little lips--silent now.

"Muvver!" The voice was more demanding.

The Lady in Black did not answer. He might go away, she thought, if she did not answer.

There was a short silence, and then the door opened slowly.

"Pe-eek!" It was a cry of joyful discovery, but it was followed almost immediately by silence. The unsmiling woman did not invite him to come near. The boy was unsteady at his first step. He paused, then spoke carefully, "I's--here."

It was maybe the worst thing he could have said. To the Lady in Black it was a yet more painful reminder of that other one who was not there. She gave a sharp cry and covered her face with her hands.

"Bobby, Bobby" she cried out, in a release of unreasoning sadness. "Go away! Go away! I want to be alone--alone!"

All the brightness fled from the boy's face. His eyes showed a feeling of deep hurt. He waited, but she did not move. Then, with a half-quieted cry, he left the room.

Long minutes afterward, the Lady in Black raised her head and saw him through the window. He was in the yard with his father, playing under the apple tree.

Playing!

The Lady in Black looked at them with serious eyes, and her mouth hardened at the corners.

Bobby had someone to play with him, someone to love him and care for him, while out there on the hillside Kathleen was alone--all alone.

With a little cry the Lady in Black sprang to her feet and hurried into her own room. Her hands shook as she pinned on her hat and covered herself with her black veil. But her step was firm as she walked downstairs and out through the hall.

The man under the apple tree rose hurriedly and came forward.

"Helen, dearest,--not again, today!" he begged. "Darling, it can't do any good!"

"But she's alone--all alone. You don't seem to think! No one thinks--no one knows how I feel. You don't understand. If you did, you'd come with me. You wouldn't ask me to stay--here!" choked the woman.

"I have been with you, dear," said the man gently. "I've been with you today, and every day, almost, since--since she left us. But it can't do any good--this continuous mourning over her grave. It only makes more sadness for you, for me, and for Bobby. Bobby is--here, you know, dear!"

"No, no, don't say it," cried the woman wildly. "You don't understand! You don't understand!" And she turned and hurried away, followed by the worried eyes of the man, and the sad eyes of the boy.

It was not a long walk to the burial place. The Lady in Black knew the way. Yet, she stumbled and reached out blindly. She fell before a little stone marked "Kathleen." Near her a gray-haired woman, with her hands full of pink and white roses, watched her sympathetically. The gray-haired woman paused and opened her lips as if she would speak. Then she turned slowly and began to arrange her flowers on a grave nearby.

The Lady in Black raised her head. For a time she watched in silence. Then she threw back her veil and spoke.

"You care, too," she said softly. "You understand. I've seen you here before, I'm sure. And was yours--a little girl?"

The gray-haired woman shook her head.

No, dearie, it's a little boy--or he was a little boy forty years ago."

"Forty years--so long! How could you have lived forty years--without him?"

Again the little woman shook her head.

"One has to--sometimes, dearie, but this little boy wasn't mine.

"But you care. You understand. I've seen you here so often before."

"Yes. You see, there's no one else to care. But there was once, and I'm caring now, for her sake."

"For her?"

"His mother."

"Oh-h!" It was a tender little cry, full of quick sympathy. The eyes of the Lady in Black were on the stone marked "Kathleen."

"It ain't as if I didn't know how she'd feel," said the gray-haired woman. "You see, I was nurse to the boy when it happened, and for years afterward I worked in the family. So I know. I saw the whole thing from the beginning, from the very day when the little boy here met with the accident."

"Accident!" It was a cry of concern and sympathy from Kathleen's mother.

"Yes. It was a runaway and he didn't live two days."

"I know! I know!" choked the Lady in Black. Yet she was not thinking of the boy and the runaway horse accident.

"Things stopped then for my mistress," continued the little gray-haired woman, "and that was the beginning of the end. She had a husband and a daughter, but they didn't seem to be important--not either of 'em. Nothin' seemed important except this little grave out here. She came and spent hours over it, bringin' flowers and talkin' to it."

The Lady in Black raised her head suddenly and quickly looked into the woman's face. The woman went on speaking.

"The house got sadder and sadder, but she didn't seem to mind. She seemed to want it so. She shut out the sunshine and put away many of the pictures. She sat only in the boy's room. And there, everything was just as it was when he left it. She wouldn't let a thing be touched. I wondered afterward that she didn't see where it was all leadin' to, but she didn't."

"'Leading to'?" The voice shook.

"Yes. I wondered she didn't see she was losin' 'em--that husband and daughter; but she didn't see it."

The Lady in Black sat very still. Even the birds seemed to have stopped their singing. Then the gray-haired woman spoke:

"So, you see, that's why I come and put flowers here. It's for her. There's no one else now to care," she sighed, rising to her feet.

"But you haven't told yet--what happened," said the Lady in Black, softly.

"I don't know myself really. I know the man went away. He got somethin' to do travelin' so he wasn't home much. When he did come he looked sick and bad. He come less and less, and he died. But that was after she died. He's buried over there beside her and the boy. The girl--well, nobody knows where the girl is. Girls like flowers and sunshine and laughter and young people, you know, and she didn't get any of them at home. So she went--where she did get 'em, I suppose.

"There, and if I haven't gone and tired you all out with my talkin'!" said the little gray-haired woman regretfully.

"No, no. I was glad to hear it," said the Lady in Black, rising unsteadily to her feet. Her face had grown white, and her eyes showed a sudden fear. "But I must go now. Thank you." And she turned and hurried away.

The house was very still when the Lady in Black reached home. She shivered at its silence. She hurried up the stairs, almost with guilt. In her own room she pulled at the dark veil that covered her face. She was crying now, a choking little cry with broken words running through it. She was still crying as she removed her black dress.

Long minutes later, the Lady--in black no longer--moved slowly down the stairway. Her eyes showed traces of tears, but her lips were bravely curved in a smile. She wore a white dress and a single white rose in her hair. Behind her, in the little room over the porch, a tiny clock ticked loudly on its shelf near the end of the bed.

There came a sound of running feet in the hall below, then:

"Muvver!--it's Muvver come back!" shouted a happy voice.

And with a little sobbing cry Bobby's mother opened her arms to her son.


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บ้านถูกมาก ในห้องพักเล็กๆ บนระเบียง ผู้หญิงชุดดำนั่งคนเดียว ใกล้เธอ ชุดสีขาวของเด็กวางข้ามเก้าอี้ บนพื้น ที่เท้าของเธอวางคู่เล็ก ๆของรองเท้า ตุ๊กตาแขวนเหนือเก้าอี้ของเล่นทหารครอบครองอยู่เล็กน้อย โดยเตียง

และทุกที่ถูกความเงียบความเงียบแปลกๆมาเฉพาะห้องที่นาฬิกาหยุดเดิน

นาฬิกายืนอยู่บนหิ้งใกล้ปลายเตียง ผู้หญิงในชุดดำมองมัน เธอยังจำได้ถึงคลื่นแห่งความโกรธที่มีมามากกว่าเธอ เมื่อเธอได้ถึงมือของเธอและเงียบนาฬิกาคืนสามเดือนก่อน

มันเงียบตั้งแต่มันน่าจะเงียบเหมือนกัน สิ่งที่สามารถใช้เป็นชั่วโมงมันก็ติ๊กออกไปแล้วเหรอ ว่าอะไรสำคัญที่สุดสินะกับแคทลีน โกหกออกมีสีขาวและยังคงอยู่ภายใต้โลกสีดำ

" muvver ! "

ผู้หญิงในชุดดำขยับอย่างกระสับกระส่ายและมองไปทางประตูที่ปิด ด้านหลัง หล่อนรู้ว่าเป็นเด็กที่มีตาสีฟ้ากว้างที่ต้องการเธอ แต่เธอหวังว่าเขาจะไม่เรียกเธอด้วยชื่อนั้น มันทำให้เธอนึกถึงริมฝีปากเล็ก ๆน้อย ๆเหล่านั้น . . . . เงียบเลย

" muvver ! " เสียงเรียกร้องความสนใจ

ผู้หญิงในชุดดำไม่ตอบ เค้าอาจจะจากไป เธอก็คิดว่า ถ้าเธอไม่ตอบ . . .

มีความเงียบสั้น แล้วประตูก็เปิดออกช้าๆ

" PE เอิ๊ก ! " เสียงร้องของสนุกสนานการค้นพบ แต่ตามมาแทบจะทันที ความเงียบ ผู้หญิงที่ไม่ชอบยิ้มไม่ได้เชิญเขามาใกล้ เด็กชายไม่มั่นคงในขั้นตอนแรกของเขา เขาหยุด แล้วพูดดีๆ " ผมอยู่ที่นี้ . . . "

มันอาจเป็นสิ่งเลวร้ายที่สุดที่เขาจะพูด เพื่อผู้หญิงในสีดำ มันเลยเจ็บเตือนอื่น ๆหนึ่งที่ไม่ได้มี เธอร้องคมยกมือปิดหน้า

" บ็อบบี้ บ็อบบี้ " เธอร้องออกมา ในการปลดปล่อยความเศร้าอย่างไร้เหตุผล " ไปให้พ้น ! ไปให้พ้น ! ฉันต้องการอยู่คนเดียว คนเดียว ! "

ทุกคนจ้า หนีไปจากใบหน้าของเด็กดวงตาของเขามีความรู้สึกเจ็บปวดลึก เขารอ แต่เธอไม่ขยับตัว แล้ว กับครึ่งเงียบร้องไห้ เขาออกจากห้องไป

นานนาทีหลังจากนั้น ผู้หญิงชุดดำยกหัวของเธอและเห็นเขาผ่านทางหน้าต่าง เขาอยู่บ้านกับพ่อ เล่นใต้ต้นแอปเปิ้ล

เล่น !

ผู้หญิงในชุดดำมองพวกเขาด้วยสายตาจริงจัง และที่มุมปากของเธอแข็ง

บ๊อบบี้ มีคนที่จะเล่นกับเขา คนที่จะรักเขาและดูแลเขา ในขณะที่ออกมีบนเนินเขา แคทลีน คนเดียว . . . คนเดียว

กับน้อยร้องไห้ผู้หญิงสีดำลุกเท้าของเธอและรีบเดินเข้าห้องของตัวเอง มือของเธอสั่นเมื่อเธอติดบนหมวกของเธอ และคลุมตัวเองด้วยผ้าคลุมดำของเธอ แต่ขั้นตอนของเธอ บริษัท ขณะที่เธอเดินข้างล่างและออกผ่านห้องโถง .

คนใต้ต้นชมพู่ ก็รีบมาส่ง

" เฮเลน ที่รัก . . . ไม่อีกแล้ว วันนี้ ! เขาขอร้อง " ที่รัก มันทำไม่ได้เลย ! "

" แต่เธอคนเดียว . . . คนเดียว คุณไม่คิดว่า ! ไม่มีใครคิดว่า -- ไม่มีใครรู้ว่าผมรู้สึกยังไง คุณไม่เข้าใจ ถ้าคุณทำ , คุณจะมากับผม คุณไม่ได้ขอให้ฉันอยู่ . . . ! " บีบคอผู้หญิง

" ฉันมีกับคุณ , ที่รัก " เขาพูดเบา ๆ" ผมกับคุณในวันนี้และทุกๆ วัน เกือบ ตั้งแต่ . . . ตั้งแต่เธอทิ้งพวกเรา แต่มันทำไม่ได้เลย . . . นี้ . . . ต่อเนื่องไปไว้อาลัยที่หลุมศพเธอ มันยิ่งทำให้เศร้ามากขึ้นสำหรับคุณสำหรับฉันและบ๊อบบี้ บ๊อบบี้ . . . ที่นี่ , คุณรู้มั้ย , ที่รัก !

" ไม่พูด " ร้องไห้ " ผู้หญิงอย่างบ้าคลั่ง คุณไม่เข้าใจ คุณไม่เข้าใจ ! เธอหันกลับและรีบหนีไปตามด้วยสายตากังวลของมนุษย์ และ เศร้า ดวงตาของเด็กชาย

มันไม่ได้เดินไกลถึงสถานที่ฝังศพ . ผู้หญิงในสีดำรู้ทาง แต่เธอสะดุดถึงออกสุ่มสี่สุ่มห้า เธอล้มลง ก่อนที่ก้อนหินเล็ก ๆน้อย ๆที่มีเครื่องหมาย " ลีน " ใกล้เธอเป็นผู้หญิงที่มีขนสีเทา มือของเธอเต็มไปด้วยดอกกุหลาบสีชมพูและสีขาว ดูเธอ sympathetically .หญิงผมเทาหยุดและเปิดริมฝีปากของเธอ ราวกับว่าเธอจะพูด แล้วเธอก็ค่อยๆ หันมา และเริ่มจัดดอกไม้บนหลุมศพใกล้เคียง

ผู้หญิงสีดำยกหัวของเธอ สำหรับช่วงเวลาที่เธออยู่ในความเงียบ แล้วเธอโยนกลับมาผ้าคลุมหน้าและพูด

" คุณดูแลด้วย " เธอพูดเบาๆ . คุณเข้าใจ ผมเคยเห็นคุณมาก่อน ผมแน่ใจ และแก . . . สาวน้อย ? "

ผู้หญิงที่มีผมสีเทาส่ายหน้า

ไม่ ที่รัก มันเป็นเด็ก . . . หรือเขาเป็นเด็กชายตัวเล็ก ๆสี่สิบปีก่อน . . . "

" สี่สิบปี . . . นาน วิธีที่คุณสามารถอยู่สี่สิบปีโดยไม่มีเขา " ?

อีก ร่างเล็กส่ายหน้า

" มี . . . . บางที ที่รัก แต่นี่เด็กน้อยไม่ใช่ของฉันหรอกนะ

" แต่เธอไม่สนใจ คุณเข้าใจ ผมเคยเห็นคุณมาที่นี่บ่อยๆ ก่อนที่ "

" ครับ คุณเห็นไหมไม่มีใครดูแล แต่ครั้งหนึ่ง และผมสนใจในตอนนี้ สำหรับตัวเธอเอง "

" เธอ " ?

" แม่ของเขา . "

" oh-h ! " มันนุ่มน้อยร้องไห้ เต็มเร็ว ความเห็นอกเห็นใจ สายตาของผู้หญิงในสีดำบนหินที่มีเครื่องหมาย " ลีน "

" มันไม่ใช่ว่าฉันไม่รู้ว่าเธอจะรู้สึก " กล่าวว่า " ผู้หญิงที่มีขนสีเทา คุณเห็นฉันเป็นพยาบาลให้เด็ก เมื่อมันเกิดขึ้นและหลายปีต่อมา ผมทำงานในครอบครัว ผมรู้ ผมเห็นเหตุการณ์ทั้งหมดตั้งแต่ต้น ตั้งแต่วันเมื่อหนุ่มน้อยมาเจอกับอุบัติเหตุ "

" อุบัติเหตุ " เสียงร้องของความกังวลและความเห็นใจจากแม่เคทลีน

" ครับ มันวิ่งหนีและเขาไม่ได้อยู่สองวันค่ะ "

" ชั้นรู้ ! ผมรู้ ! " บีบคอผู้หญิงสีดำแต่หล่อนก็ไม่คิดของเด็กและอุบัติเหตุม้าหนี

" มันหยุดแล้วนายหญิงของข้า " ต่อน้อยผู้หญิงที่มีขนสีเทา " และนั่นคือจุดเริ่มต้นของจุดจบ เธอมีสามีและลูกสาว แต่พวกเขาไม่ได้ดูเหมือนจะสำคัญ . . . ไม่ใช่ให้เลย ไม่คิดว่ามันสำคัญ นอกจากหลุมศพเล็กๆออกมา เธอมาและใช้เวลามากกว่าจะดอกไม้ และพูดกับมัน "

ผู้หญิงสีดำยกหัวของเธอทันที และรีบมองไปยังผู้หญิงที่ใบหน้า ผู้หญิงก็พูด

" บ้านก็เศร้า และเศร้า แต่เธอไม่เห็นใจ ดูเหมือนเธอต้องการมันมาก เธอปิดกั้นแสงแดดและใส่ไปหลายภาพ เธอนั่งอยู่คนเดียวในห้องพักของเด็ก และมี ทุกอย่างมันเป็นเพียงเมื่อเขาจากไปเธอจะไม่ปล่อยให้สิ่งที่สัมผัสได้ ผมสงสัยว่า ภายหลังที่เธอไม่ได้ดูว่ามันคือทั้งหมด leadin ' แต่เธอไม่ได้ "

" 'leading ' ? " เสียงสั่น

" ครับ ฉันสงสัยว่าเธอไม่เห็นเธอจะตายนั้น สามีและลูกสาว แต่เธอไม่เห็นมัน . "

ผู้หญิงชุดดำนั่งมากยังคง แม้แต่นกที่ดูเหมือนจะหยุดร้องเพลงของพวกเขา แล้วผู้หญิงที่มีผมสีเทาพูด :

" อย่างที่เห็นนั่นเป็นเหตุผลที่ฉันมาใส่ดอกไม้ที่นี่ มันเป็นเธอ ไม่มีใครที่จะดูแล " เธอถอนหายใจ เพิ่มขึ้นถึงเท้าของเธอ

" แต่คุณยังไม่ได้บอกเลย มันเกิดอะไรขึ้น , " กล่าวว่า ผู้หญิงในชุดดำ เบาๆ

" ผมก็ไม่รู้ว่าจริง ๆ ผมรู้จักชายคนนี้ไป เขามีอะไรต้องทำ travelin ' ดังนั้นเขาไม่ได้กลับบ้านมาก เมื่อเขากลับมาเขาก็ไม่สบาย และเลวร้าย เขามาน้อยลง และเขาก็ตาย
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